


Of Low Fat Soya Half Shot Latte’s and Masterpieces

by benedictcumberlongpond



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Barista!Jared, M/M, artist!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictcumberlongpond/pseuds/benedictcumberlongpond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is an artist who is having trouble sketching his new creative muse (that shy barista with the floppy hair), but Jared is more than happy to come to his studio for a little one-on-one, which of course (this is fanfiction, after all) leads to sex. Dedicated to Isaisanisa. Warnings for blowjobs, fingering, and anal sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Low Fat Soya Half Shot Latte’s and Masterpieces

The problem with drawing Jared, Jensen soon discovered, was that he didn’t know him well enough. 

The first time he had drawn his shy barista (the one with floppy hair who accidentally made a froth-and-caffeine love heart in his low fat soya half shot latte the first time he came here), he had drawn him with sharp lines. Scratches of pencil against the paper, heavy weight to match the heaviness of his brows and the etches of his dimples, deep in his cheeks like carvings, teeth bleached-stone-white.

But, no, Jared wasn’t heavy lines. He looked like sharp strokes upon first glance – but that was mostly, Jensen suspected, because of his well defined pecs that stood out beneath his too-tight black shirt. But one day Jared had hoisted a bag of coffee beans above his head, emptying it into the machine, and as his muscles relaxed they formed a perfect curve and Jensen could have slapped himself when he realized: 

Jared was made of circles. 

But his second sketch was soft lines, the tip of his charcoal reverently brushing the paper. It was a gentle flick of his wrist that followed the same curve as his coffee mug (the same curve of that milky love heart, like a personal joke between them). It still wasn’t right. Jared was only circles in parts of him, in the swell of his cheek and the curve of his ass, in the flick of his nose and the shadow of hair at the nape of his neck. 

Jensen was circles in the frame of his glasses that he pushed further up his nose as he scowled at the sketch, throwing his pencil back towards his pack, thinking _fuck the lead_ , as he smudged a line on Jared’s cheekbone. 

“That’s the fifth one,” a voice behind him spoke, and Jensen almost jumped in his seat as he turned to face the object of his creative desire. 

Jensen quirked an eyebrow. “The fifth coffee?” He asked, and Jared shook his head.

“The fifth picture of me.” He explained, grinning dimple-wide. “You’re really good.” 

“They’re not right,” Jensen confessed, tilting the page a little so Jared could see, see how beautiful he was, see how amazing he looked, see how he _didn’t fucking work in circles._

“How come?” Jared asked, frowning as his eyes darted over the page. “Looks like me,” 

Jensen smiled to himself. “Thanks, it’s hard to explain without sounding totally creepy.” 

Jared’s dimples answered. “Tell me,” 

Jensen bit his lip before he replied. “It’s like how a coffee cup is a cylindrical shape,” he began, dragging the ceramic cup towards him on the saucer. “This picture here-” tilt of the page “-is like a cylinder.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jared asked, eyebrows dancing an up-down of questioning. 

“No,” Jensen stated. “I don’t want to draw a cylinder, I want to draw a coffee cup.” 

“So I’m a coffee cup?” Jared asked, brushing a hand through his hair. 

“Yes,” 

“And this picture here… that’s a cylinder?” 

Jensen took a sip of the coffee and nodded. 

Jared frowned, his mouth becoming an upside down ‘U’ shape of concern before correcting itself. 

“So how do we make the cylinder into a coffee cup?” Jared asked, and Jensen gave him a sideways smile. 

“I continue staring at you creepily while you make coffees,” he answered earnestly, and Jared gave a loud bark of laughter that made Jensen realize the curve of his mouth was a slightly larger angle than he had originally thought. 

“Would it be easier to draw me in a studio or something? I don’t mind, and I finish work in about twenty minutes.” Jared asked casually, clever fox-eyes darting from the picture back to Jensen’s face, that may have been showing an emotion somewhere between longing and victory, and Jensen decided to name this emotion _‘yes.’_

“If you wouldn’t mind, that would be… amazing. I could pay you for the modelling-”

“Don’t use the ‘m’ word and I’ll do it for free, okay?” Jared told him, flicking hair from his face. “I’ll throw in a pout for you too, no extra charge.” Jared demonstrated as he walked back to the machine, cheeks sucking in, eyes squinting upwards, lips pursed, hips swaying, tea towel thrown over his shoulder like a fashionable sweater. 

Jensen’s laughter almost spilled his coffee, flecks of cacao-stained milk jolting precariously close to his sketch book as he thought of Jared in his studio lights, all to himself, and he swallowed heavily. 

They walked to the studio when Jared finished, along the sun dappled pavement with Jared’s hoodie slung over his shoulder, occasionally bumping Jensen’s elbow as they stepped in synch towards the building. 

Jared told Jensen about his mom, about his older brother, Jensen told Jared about his studio and his dog, and Jared told Jensen that he should be the one modelling for pictures, and Jensen’s glasses fogged under the force of his blush as he muttered _‘I thought we agreed not to use the m-word’._

Later in the studio Jared had absorbed the sunlight and reflected it back onto Jensen’s paper, grinning boyishly and quipping a, ‘I don’t have to get naked, do I?’ forcing Jensen to swallow his ‘please’ and instead answer with a jovial ‘buy me dinner first’. 

“Ok,” Jared answered, settling in a seat near the window, and smiling widely at him. 

“Like that,” Jensen whispered, and Jared’s smile faltered before blasting through at full force. Jensen caught his breath, picking out a pencil and raising his wrist, touching the lead to the white paper and beginning to draw. 

Twenty minutes in, Jared’s smile was twitching, and Jensen apologized with an awkward huff of breath. 

“I’m working on your collarbones now, you don’t have to-”

“My collarbones?” Jared asked, looking down as if he could see them from the angle he leaned his head. “Through the shirt?” 

“The general area of the collarbones.” Jensen amended

“Would you like to draw the collarbones?” Jared asked, and Jensen wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to when he shrugged and nodded, but it involved Jared taking his shirt off. 

Jensen’s mouth dried, pencil clattering to the floor from loose fingers as his eyes took in Jared’s torso. 

He was not a good enough artist for this. 

“Jesus,” He whispered, looking over the lines of his abs, and his hips, and Jensen was right about the sharp angle of his pectorals and _god he wanted to lick him._

“Are we drawing or staring?” Jared asked, like he was teasing, like he _knew._

“Both, in equal amounts.” Jensen said, voice rough as he delved into his pack to get a new pencil, continuing the line he had been drawing, finding it was a lot different now he could see… fucking everything. 

“Beautiful,” Jensen whispered as he traced the curve of a hip, and he didn’t realize Jared could hear until a flush lit his features. 

It was an hour before Jensen stopped, offering food and drinks and letting Jared stretch out. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I only have to finish the lower part of your body, I can probably do it from memory.” Jensen said, hoping Jared would decline. 

“I wouldn’t want to ruin your masterpiece. I’m happy to stay longer, unless you want me to go?” Jared said awkwardly.

“No,” Jensen said, too quickly, making Jared’s dimples pop. 

When they walked back to the studio area, Jared looked at the progress Jensen had made, nodding approvingly, walking back to the stool. 

“So just the legs now?” 

“Yep,” Jensen said distractedly, picking out a pencil and setting his paper at a better angle, not paying that much attention until he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper drawing downwards. 

Jensen spun immediately, watching as Jared slipped out of his jeans, leaving him in black briefs that hugged the line of his cock and Jensen was suddenly hard, and he lost another pencil to the floor as he stared. 

“Is it ok? It seemed to help when I took the shirt off so I thought it might he-”

“It’s good.” Jensen said quickly, sitting down and swallowing heavily. “It’s… yes. Thank you.”

Jared blushed but sat back in position, legs almost spread, feet monkey-toed around the bar of the stool. 

Jensen fumbled with the pencil, wanting to draw everything at once, pencil sweeping the page as he took the outline and then began working in details. 

He spent ten minutes on the arch of his foot, another twenty on the bend of his knee, he traced in the line of his calf and filled the shading with reverent hands. 

He made himself wait, forced his hand away from Jared’s crotch, telling himself that soon he would be allowed to stare, and draw, and commit to memory. 

Jared was sitting strangely though, moving as though he was uncomfortable, and Jensen whispered _“stay still,”_ in his automatic artist-voice, and Jared blushed. 

It became clear why when he shifted back into position and Jensen’s eyes drew to the front of his briefs, noticing the slight bulge in the fabric, and _holy shit Jared was hard._

He made himself say nothing, but immediately traced the line into his work, imagining how it looked bare, wondering how dark the hair was at the base, thinking about what shape the head would be, if he would get wet, if it was thick and delicious and _fuck,_ Jensen’s pencil had stopped moving on the page. 

He became aware, slowly, that Jared was staring at him, and that he was staring at Jared’s cock. It felt tense, too tense, like he would need to wade towards him if Jensen wanted to touch and _god_ he wanted to touch. 

“Jensen,” Jared said, and he tore his eyes away from that dark material, meeting Jared’s expression and feeling his breath catch. 

Jared’s eyes were dark, lips wet and glistening in the harsh light of the studio, his hands clenching and unclenching on his thighs, his cock now fully hard in his pants and Jensen knew it would only take a little more for the head to be peeking under the band. Jensen let out a soft groan that dissipated the tension and made him put down pencil and paper, standing abruptly and walking across the room in harsh, clacking footsteps, taking Jared’s perfect jaw line between his fingers and claiming his mouth. 

Jared breathed in harshly through his nose, fingers clenching in the back of Jensen’s jacket and pulling him closer, mouth opening, tongue lapping over his lips and then plunging inside his mouth, licking out the whimpers and groans until they were falling freely and Jared’s teeth were drawing red lines in his lips. 

“Fuck, want you, want you so bad,” Jared whispered, hands dragging off Jensen’s jacket and then rucking up the back of his shirt, scrambling over the skin there.

“Yes, fuck,” Jensen managed, hands clutching shoulders, tilting his head back when Jared kissed his neck, giving him more room to do more, more, _do fucking anything._

Jared’s hands moved to his hips, pulling him close until he was almost straddling Jared on the stool and he could feel the hard line of Jared’s cock against his ass, and he ground down towards it and whispered, _‘table or floor?’,_ and he could feel Jared smiling against his collarbone before biting down. 

In answer Jared’s hands cupped the back of his thighs, picking him up like it was fucking nothing and forcing Jensen’s legs to wind around his waist as Jared walked them backwards towards a table and then laid Jensen down on it, body covering his, mouth re-attaching to his neck. 

“Shit,” Jensen whispered, hands flitting over his shoulders and down his back, pulling him closer, reclaiming his mouth and thrusting his tongue inside, groaning when Jared began sucking on it. He withdrew his tongue slowly, letting their lips just press together for a moment of clarity. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Jared said against his mouth, hands unbuttoning Jensen’s shirt and pulling it off, revealing more of his skin that Jared apparently had to bite. 

Jensen felt a high keen leave his mouth when Jared started sucking at his nipples, biting gently before laving his tongue over them one at a time, making Jensen arch on the table, fingers twining in Jared’s hair to hold him still. 

“Sensitive?” Jared rumbled the word across his chest as he continued licking and sucking, trailing teeth towards his stomach and biting against his hips, leaving a trail of wetness all the way to his hipbones where his hands were desperately attempting to rid Jensen of his pants. 

“Are you?” Jensen replied, trickling fingers through his hair, tugging him back up once Jared had finished undoing his pants and claiming his mouth once again, kissing him forcefully, tracing the angle of his lips and letting his hands wander over the circle-and-lines structure of him. 

Jared squirmed, and Jensen smiled into his mouth, tracing hands up his hips, flexing fingers over the chest he had meticulously drawn and feeling every bump and slide.

He began kissing down Jared’s neck, tasting him, feeling the texture of stubble burning his lips. 

Jensen pushed him backwards, forcing him to stand, letting him brace hands against the table as he lowered himself onto his knees, breathing against Jared’s crotch, finally examining the part of Jared he hadn’t had a chance to draw. 

With shaking hands, he tugged down Jared’s briefs and let himself look at the thick length of him. He was achingly hard, and Jared’s cock was beautiful. The tip was glistening, silky smooth and twitching slightly when Jensen puffed hot air against the head. 

The hair at the base was dark, heady with the smell of sex and Jared, and Jensen nuzzled into his hip to catch that smell, thinking that he would need to use a softer lead to get the lines of his hipbones right, a sharper pencil to trace the vein on the underside of his cock, and Jensen traced it now with his tongue, memorizing the shape, closing his eyes when he reached the tip and tasted the salt-and-earth tang of him. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered against the flesh of Jared’s cock, lips pushing forward, sucking Jared into his mouth and feeling him twist and whine above him. 

“F-fuck,” Jared’s hips were stuttering into Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen relaxed his throat, letting Jared slide all the way in, blinking up at him. 

Jensen’s hand cupped his ass, thinking that he would need to do a front-and-back portrait in order to capture all of Jared’s assets, tracing calloused fingers over the swell of it, dipping into the dark line of his crack and feeling the soft skin around his hole. Jared’s hips thrusted forward as Jensen traced the flesh, not pushing in, just touching softly and letting Jared feel the thickness of his finger. 

Jensen pulled back on his cock as well, mouthing gently at the head as he pressed the pad of his index finger with the most gentle of pressure, as though he was going to push in, before pulling back and continuing to massage the rim. 

“Lube. We n-need lube.” Jared gasped, eyes half-mast, mouth open and bitten-red. 

Jensen nodded, tongue dragging through the slit of Jared’s cock, making his eyes snap shut and a groan escape his mouth. 

“There’s some in my office,” Jensen said, lips brushing the head of his dick. 

“Office sex,” Jared replied, eyes re-opening slowly, lips parting for a grin. “I can go for that.” 

They made it out of the room without any hitches, finally getting Jared’s briefs all the way off, and pulling off most of Jensen’s clothes (the tie was too hard, his own briefs tight around his aching cock), and it wasn’t until halfway down the hall that they were both finally naked. 

Jensen took the opportunity to press Jared against the wall, let him feel the warmth of skin and the press of muscle on muscle, and fuck they slotted together perfectly, like they could be drawn without the tip of the pencil leaving the page, and Jensen groaned into Jared’s mouth.

Jensen’s office was thankfully unlocked, and they stumbled in over portraits of vases and people and watercolor sunsets and charcoal-smudged pages. Right on Jensen’s desk were the first five pictures of Jared, which only became obvious to him when Jared slammed him against the mahogany structure, letting him feel the bite of the edge against his thighs. 

Jensen flipped himself over, pulling Jared onto his lap, still kissing him with urgent flicks of his tongue and scrapes of his teeth. 

“Gonna fuck you against the desk,” Jensen informed him, and Jared smiled into his mouth and whispered _what are you waiting for?_

“Lube,” he answered, disentangling from Jared with a smile so he could walk around to the other side of his desk, pulling open the first drawer and locating the lube. 

He looked up to Jared, the words _found it!_ dying on his lips as he took in the naked form of him, pressed against the desk, sun setting and making the shadows of his abs and pecs more dramatic, the stubble on his face darker, the golden highlights of his hair stand out. 

“Jesus, you’re gorgeous, you know that?” Jensen murmured, walking back around the desk and pinning Jared to it, kissing him softly, tongue pliant in his mouth as he lapped against Jared’s lips. 

“You’ve got me, Jensen,” Jared told him, “you can stop sweet talking me now.” 

Jensen huffed out a breath of laughter, things feeling a lot more real now, and his hands shook as he found the lube again, opening the cap with a low _snick_ and pouring some onto his fingers, pressing them against Jared’s hole, already pliant from his earlier attention. One finger slid in easily, and they both groaned at the feeling. 

Jared was so hot and tight, all clenching muscle, soft as satin and god, Jensen crooked his finger to feel the changing tightness, and slowly inched in another finger. 

Jared gasped, leaning his forehead against Jensen’s shoulder, flexing his hips and fuck, Jared was riding his fingers in slow thrusts, emphasizing the muscles in his thighs and abs as he rocked back and forward, relaxing around Jensen’s hand until he could slip in a third finger. 

“Fuck,” Jared moaned. “Fuck, you feel so good inside me.” 

“Yeah?” Jensen whispered back, crooking his fingers, feeling Jared tighten and then relax, his cock twitching against his stomach. 

Jensen had almost forgotten about his erection, too lost in Jared’s pleasure, but now his arousal was hitting him harshly and Jared was open for him and _fuck,_ god, he was going to _fuck Jared._

Jared seemed to sense the mood change and he rocked his hips, letting Jensen’s fingers slip out of him as he turned on the spot, bracing elbows on the table – on top of a sketch of himself, smudging the line of his work shirt with his forearm. 

“Come on then,” Jared teased, dropping his forehead to the desk. 

Jensen slipped his fingers back inside, feeling how loose the muscle was, how ready, and he slicked his cock with more lube and pressed the head against Jared’s ass, feeling it catching on his rim before pushing carefully forward. 

Jensen was mesmerized by the sight of himself disappearing into Jared, staring down, ears filled with a symphony of Jared’s moans as he slowly slipped in to the hilt, his hips flush with Jared’s ass, his balls snug against Jared’s, his finger tips biting half-moons into Jared’s hips. 

“Perfect, god, Jared you feel perfect.” Jensen whispered, and Jared groaned. 

“Move, Jensen.” Jared told him, tilting his hips back and groaning suddenly, and Jensen caught on to the word _prostate_ before beginning to rock back and forward, slipping a little more out on each thrust until he was pushing fully out and then fully back in, sheathing himself in Jared’s heat over and over until there was sweat on his neck and his fingers were numb from holding on so tight. 

“I n-need-” Jared stuttered, and Jensen moved one of his hands to cup against Jared’s weeping cock, and Jared sobbed. 

“Yes, fuck.” He hissed, pushing forward into Jensen’s hand and then back onto Jensen’s cock in a beautiful choreography that had them both panting. 

The muscles of Jared’s back were contracting and twisting, shadows playing over his golden skin, his hair slicked to the back of his neck with sweat, and Jensen pushed a hand into his hair and tugged him backwards, pulling until that back was flush against his front and he was reduced to small, rocking thrusts that were just enough to push him closer to the edge and _fuck._

He bit down against Jared’s neck as he fisted his hand, letting Jared ride his cock and his palm, slicking his fingers over the slit in Jared’s dick and then rubbing under the head, prompting a dropped expletive from Jared’s lips. 

“Gunna, f-fuck,” was the warning Jared provided before come was slicking over Jensen’s palm, spurting weakly onto the desk to coat a few sheets of paper and slide onto the wood, and his ass was fluttering wildly around Jensen’s cock, becoming impossibly tight, milking Jensen until he was coming, too. 

“Jesus,” Jared managed when they both finished, their breaths loud in the small office. “So you got a bed in this place? I’m wiped.” 

“I’ve got a bed back at my apartment?” Jensen replied, slipping out of Jared and feeling the nerves twitch under his skin. 

“Where are our clothes?” Jared then asked, looking around the room. Jensen gestured weakly to the hallway and studio area. 

“Somewhere out there.” He explained, stepping over to his desk and picking up a blank sheet of paper, opening a drawer and locating a stub of charcoal. 

“Sit down,” he said, and Jared obeyed without thought, sitting in a leather chair heavily and putting his legs up. 

“Perfect,” Jensen commented, sitting in his own chair, feeling his naked skin on the cold wood and pressing the charcoal to the page. “You’re perfect.” 

Jared smiled sleepily, pressing his face into the back of the chair, his eyes closing. 

“Can I nap while you sketch me?” he asked, yawning. 

Jensen smiled as he traced the perfect angle of his lips. “Sure.” 

Jared’s light snores soon filled his office, along with the sound of Jensen’s charcoal scratching across the paper as the sun dipped below the horizon and Jensen finally worked out the way the cut of his shoulder sat in relation to his hips, and he named that angle _impossible._

And later that night they lay in Jensen’s King sized, angles locking together, head on one pillow and fingers entwined, and Jared whispered something about love hearts in Jensen’s cappuccino, and Jensen whispered back that he had a cappuccino machine in the kitchen, and Jared laughed and said _of course you do, that’s why you come in to get coffee every day._

And Jensen just rolled his eyes and pulled Jared closer and muttered _I was working on my masterpiece in that coffee shop, asshole._

Then he pressed a signature-kiss to the back of Jared’s neck and flexed his fingers over the masterpiece beneath him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
